


You're the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow

by aleanmeanaquamarine



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleanmeanaquamarine/pseuds/aleanmeanaquamarine
Summary: just a small picnic date with some bonus light h/c :)
Relationships: Crowley Meratyn/Halt O'Carrick
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32
Collections: Ranger's Apprentice Summer Fluff 5K





	You're the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hessy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessy/gifts).



> FOR HESSY, WHOMST I LOVE AND ADORE AND WOULD DIE FOR???? WHY ARE YOU SUCHA. PURE PERSON I LOVE U HESSY?????? THANK U FOR ALWAYS BEING SO KIND AND JUST . SHOVES LOVE AND AFFECTION INTO YOUR ARMS AND ALSO THIS FIC!!!! TAKE IT

Crowley knocked on the door of Halt’s cabin, pushing it open and stepping inside.

Halt was sitting at the kitchen table, paperwork strewn about in front of him. He glanced over, raising an eyebrow at Crowley. “What was the point of knocking if you were just going to barge in anyways? I  _ do  _ have actual work to finish, you know.”

Crowley grinned, waltzing over to pluck the pen out of Halt’s pen and drape himself over Halt’s back.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” Crowley leaned the slightest bit closer, his mouth close to Halt’s ear. “How can I make it up to you?” 

There was the hint of a smirk in Halt’s voice when he spoke again. “I believe I was promised a date.”

Crowley offered a hand to Halt, pulling him out of his seat with a flourish as he took it. “Oh, if you insist,” he said loftily.

Halt gave him a look. “You’re unbelievably irritating.” Crowley opened his mouth to reply, mock-offended, but promptly shut it as Halt dragged him closer by the collar of his cloak, pulling him into a kiss. 

When Halt finally pulled away, it was with a small smile. Crowley’s hand rested on Halt’s cheek. “Actually, I might be convinced to stay a while…” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Halt rolled his eyes, pulling away.

“I haven’t had lunch yet, Crowley. And besides, you  _ just  _ got off your horse.” Halt spared a glance for Crowley’s mussed hair and dirt-stained pants. “I’ll pass for today,” he said, already turning to leave the cabin.

Crowley pulled up his cowl out of habit, falling into step behind Halt. “Rude,” he muttered. Halt snorted, stepping out the door, and Crowley followed, a cool breeze brushing his cloak to one side. He moved to walk next to Halt.

After a moment, Halt spoke again. “Don’t walk so fast. Not all of us have legs the height of a tree like you do.”

There was a beat of silence before Crowley turned to look at Halt from under his hood, taking in the way he walked with the slightest of limps. His smile faded. “Your injury is that bad, then?” His voice was soft.

Halt waved him off. “It’s really nothing serious. Stop mother-henning me.” 

Crowley frowned, uneasiness pooling in his stomach. “The medics put you on leave for a reason.” 

Halt looked over at him, one eyebrow raised in an almost-fond expression. “Remember how I’ve been in several different life-threatening situations? And I somehow managed to make it through all of those?” They reached the stables, and Halt opened the door. “I should think I’d be able to survive a scratch on the leg.”

Crowley sighed, giving up the argument. “So long as you can still ride.” He saw Halt open his mouth but held up a hand, cutting him off. “ _ And  _ you’ll tell me if you need a break.”

A wry smile twitched at Halt’s lips as he saddled Abelard, tightening the girth strap. “I swear, you’re worse than Pritchard nowadays.” 

Crowley scrunched up his nose at that. “I will  _ never _ be worse than Pritchard.” 

Halt seemed to consider it for a moment. “No, I suppose not. But my point still stands- really, you’re a worrywart through and through.” Halt backed out of the stable, Abelard following behind him.

Crowley huffed, a smile crossing his face as he tightened Cropper’s saddle. He began to lead the horse out of the stable, watching as Halt mounted Abelard. He struggled for a moment before pulling himself up, and Crowley’s smile fell away at the unusual jerkiness of the motion. “You’ll tell me if you need to stop.” 

It wasn’t really a question, but Halt answered anyways. “I will, I will.” Crowley swung himself onto Cropper. Both Cropper and Abelard began to walk without their riders’ guidance, the path familiar. “How are things back at Castle Araluen, anyways?” Halt glanced over at him. “You managed to find time to visit- between stacks of paperwork, that is.” 

Crowley groaned. “Oh, don’t get me  _ started  _ on how things are. Really, I love the Corps, but I’m not sure if I love them enough to deal with all these diplomatic relations. There’s this one noble who’s been visiting recently- Sir William- he’s the most pretentious man. You’d hate him.”

The two of them fell into easy conversation, bickering as they continued their ride, almost out of habit. It was comfortable, like being wrapped in a warm blanket after a day out in the cold. 

They were there before Crowley knew it, climbing off their horses and unpacking their things. He unsaddled Cropper, placing the saddle onto the ground. There was a pained grunt from behind him, and he turned around, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Then Halt’s leg was crumpling underneath him, and Crowley felt a flash of panic in his chest.. He was there in an instant, catching Halt from behind. He quickly helped Halt down to the ground, kneeling beside him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Crowley.” Halt pulled up the leg of his pants to check on the still-bandaged wound. “Look, there’s not even any blood.” Crowley looked down, and sure enough, the bandage was clean. 

He frowned, still unsettled.“You said you’d tell me if you needed to stop.” 

Halt pushed the fabric back into place. He pulled himself upright again, batting away Crowley’s proffered hands. “And I didn’t need to stop.” At Crowley’s disbelieving look, he sighed. “Really, I just landed wrong. I’m alright.” Halt paused. “Are  _ you _ ?” The words were quiet, gentle, and Crowley looked away. 

“Of course I’m alright.” He could feel Halt’s eyes on him, searching. “I just… I hate it when you get hurt.” 

There was silence for a moment as Halt seemed to consider him. Crowley shifted uncomfortably. The feeling of being exposed, of putting his soul into Halt’s hands had never been easy.

“Help me set up the picnic,” Halt said quietly, and Crowley recognized the words for what they were- an out, a way for him to table the conversation for just a little while.

“Okay,” he said quietly, and they settled back into a rhythm, moving around the clearing in a way that made it look like they’d been doing it all their lives.

In a way, Crowley supposed, they had. 

~~

It was after they’d eaten when Halt brought it up again. “I’m fine.” He searched Crowley’s face. “You know that, right?”

Crowley sighed, picking at the grass just beyond the picnic blanket’s edge and refusing to meet Halt’s eyes. “I know, but what if someday, you’re not? And I’ll just be-” he waved a hand in the air- “stuck in my little room in Castle Araluen. Waiting.” He paused again. “Useless. Unable to help.” His voice was quiet, bitter.

“I can take care of myself, you know.” Halt’s tone was lighthearted. “Besides, if I need backup, I can always call on Gilan. Gorlog knows Meric doesn’t need him there, quiet as it is.” Crowley just shrugged, determinedly watching the patch of greenery. He heard a sigh from next to him. “Oh, don’t look so downtrodden.” At no response, Halt sighed. “You can show me how to make that damned flower crown you’re always talking about,” he offered, voice resigned.

Crowley looked up in surprise. He’d been trying to convince Halt to wear a flower crown for weeks, putting the request in personal letters, mission report responses, and even once had gotten another Ranger to deliver the message. (Berrigan had gotten a good laugh out of that one.) “Really?”

Halt sighed. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,” he said, with the air of a man who had already given up. “And besides, it’ll get you to stop making that awful glum face.”

A broad grin crossed Crowley’s face.”Aw, Halt, I had no idea you cared so much.”

Halt stared up at the sky like it had personally offended him. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” 

Crowley ignored him, already busy gathering flowers. 

Halt ended up with his head in Crowley’s lap, because it was  _ just easier, Halt, c’mon _ , and Crowley found himself thoroughly distracted from his previous worries. The repetitive motion of threading flowers together was easy, soothing. Having Halt’s head in his lap certainly didn’t hurt, either.

He deftly tied together the final stems, gently placing the finished craft on Halt’s head. Halt looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“You do realize I used to be actual royalty, right?”

Crowley grinned, rearranging Halt’s hair around the circlet. “Flower crowns are of a different caliber than actual crowns. It’s an art form, really.”

Halt just shrugged. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” He reached up, patting Crowley on the cheek. “I think I’ll keep you, though.”

Crowley spluttered. “You can’t just- lay claim to me!”

An eyebrow was raised at him. “And who, exactly, is going to stop me?”

Crowley huffed, shaking his head. “By the gods, you’re insufferable. I can’t believe I made you a flower crown.” The grin tugging at the edges of his mouth became more and more insistent. He made eye contact with Halt, and the laughter building in him spilled over. He looked up at the sky, grinning. He could feel Halt’s shoulders shaking in his lap as a low chuckle filled the air.

Eventually, the amusement died down a little, and Crowley wiped a tear out of his eye, smile still on his face. He looked back down at Halt, the harsh lines of his partner’s face softer in the afternoon light. A wave of fondness overcame him, and he realized with a start that he’d be okay with staying in this moment forever, letting it replay until he was old and aching. He leaned down, pulling Halt into a quick kiss.

He could feel Halt’s smile against his lips. Halt relaxed back into Crowley’s lap, shifting into a more comfortable position. There was a drowsy look on his face. “Tell me a story,” he said quietly.

Crowley smoothed the hair back from Halt’s forehead. “A story? Of what kind?”

Halt just shrugged, blinking a few times. “Just… let me hear your voice,” he mumbled, Hibernian accent stronger in his half-asleep state. 

A small smile crossed Crowley’s face as he watched Halt. “I think I know just the thing.” He cleared his throat.

“Once upon a time, there was a man named Arratay…”

~~

Halt had fallen asleep about halfway through the story that  _ no, Halt, is definitely not about you, why would you say that? _

He’d drifted off into sleep, but Crowley continued the story anyways, just on the off chance that his partner could hear him in his dreams. He sat there, letting the hours pass by peacefully, watching over his lover until mid-afternoon, when Halt awoke slowly, and the two of them had packed away the picnic site, working in an easy silence.

Crowley found himself back at Halt’s cabin, nursing a second or third or maybe fourth cup of coffee. The room was dark— they’d lit a candle ages ago, but even that had almost melted down to a stub. Halt’s eyelids drooped and Crowley took Halt’s cup, making the familiar walk to the kitchen. “You should get to bed,” he said softly, rinsing both cups out and leaving them on the drying rack.

“You’ll stay?” Halt’s voice was sleep-heavy and quiet. Crowley paused, letting a little smile spread across his face. 

“I’ll stay,” he promised, walking back towards the mess of papers they’d left on the coffee table and pressing a kiss to Halt’s cheek along the way.

Crowley began to tidy up the paperwork as Halt wandered off to get ready for bed, a quiet sense of belonging warming his chest.

Later, he would climb under the covers of Halt’s bed, tucking his lover close and keeping him safe. He would wonder how he’d gotten so lucky, and after a long while of just feeling Halt’s body pressed against his, he would fall asleep, too.


End file.
